Stay
by jainanicole
Summary: Scully doesn't want Mulder to go. (Does anyone else remember that scene in the van -one of the last scenes in 'Pusher'- ? Wow, that was powerful...subtle, definetly, but *powerful*.) This is set during that scene. Please R/R.


Stay  
  
  
  
  
  
"I think I should go in alone."  
  
Mulder's words reverberate in my head, and I can't believe that he's just said that. This man, -the Pusher, Robert Patrick Modell, whatever you want to call him- is dangerous. I may not believe that he can kill people through the power of suggestion, but I do believe that he can kill, and at this moment, that's all that matters.  
  
And now, Mulder, my partner, my best friend...now Mulder wants to go in and face him, alone and unarmed. I don't want to think that he's going to meet this monster, that he's going to be bewitched by him just like the others were. I don't want to think of Mulder, helpless and defenseless, without me there to guard him.  
  
At this moment, I'm scared, terrified that I'm going to lose him. In the three years I've worked with him, the many close calls that we've had...I think that this is the most afraid that I've ever been. Usually, the threats to our lives are monsters and freaks, mutants and hybrids. In this instance, the danger is so much more real. Modell isn't a monster, a freak, or any figment of imagination...he's a sick, twisted, human being, as real as any of us are, with the strength and intelligence and cunning to match. And he's intent on hurting Mulder.  
  
I feel like crying, like pleading with him. There are people to do this, Mulder, they're trained, they're willing...and most importantly, they're not you. My mind screams at him, trying to convince him to stay with me, but no words come out of my mouth. Instead, I sit in a stony silence, hot tears welling in my eyes, and watch my partner suit up to meet a demon.  
  
He's given a bulletproof vest, a gun, and a camera so that we can watch him...I almost want to laugh, but a sob chokes me instead. What kind of people are we? We're agents, fighters, and yet the only protection we can offer a doomed man is a camera? This feels to me like someone's sick joke, like someone up there has it in for me, and I know that Mulder thinks so too. He tries to lighten the mood with one of his patented jokes.  
  
"Think I get the Playboy channel?"  
  
The technician chuckles, but I can't even crack a smile. It's not funny. At this moment, it's NOT funny. I want to scream at him, scream at both of them. Stop laughing, stop joking! It's not funny, it's not funny, it's NOT. My mind is screaming, screaming so loud that I wince, screaming and pleading and crying. All the things that I can't do, all the words that I can't say...at this moment, all are echoing in my mind.  
  
Mulder must have seen the worried look on my face, because he comes over and kneels by my side. I can't imagine that he's not scared right now, but his face isn't showing anything. Well, rephrase that. His face isn't showing anything...except concern. Concern for me. I want to hit him...why is he worried about me? Does he know how much I'm worried about him? Could he possibly understand how much I want him to stay?  
  
"Smile, Scully."  
  
He smiles up at me, an endearing boyish smile that makes him look completely innocent. I look away. I have to, or I'm going to cry. How can he be so indifferent about this? Mulder frowns, and then un-holsters his gun and hands it to me. Now, I am panicked.  
  
"Take it." I say, in a voice so completely void of my emotions that I wonder if it is really me that is speaking.  
  
Mulder shakes his head. "No. I wouldn't want to end up pointing it at anybody except Modell."  
  
Dammit. Now I really *am* going to cry. I blink my eyes, silently willing away the stinging tears that are pricking them. I don't want to think about Mulder at the mercy of this man, unarmed and unprotected. I'm so scared for him, and I'm scared for myself as well. Scared that I'm going to lose him, scared that I'll never get the chance to tell him...  
  
Once again, I can't say anything, can't voice what I'm feeling. I settle for reaching out and clasping his hands in my own. His fingers curl around mine, reflexively, and it's comforting, reassuring. In that moment, I am sure that he knows what I am thinking...  
  
He looks scared and sad, a pathetic mix of emotions that makes my heart ache just *looking* at him. In typical Mulder fashion, he tries to be confident, tries to put on a brave front for me... There is so much that I want to say to him right now, so much that I can see he wants to say to me. And, as usual, neither of us can find the words.  
  
Mulder swallows, and stands up, throwing a nonchalant grin at the technician.  
  
"Let's get this show on the road."  
  
He gives my hand one final squeeze, then turns and jumps out of the van, heading into the hospital to confront this monster.  
  
Alone. 


End file.
